


Fire and Ice

by Arinor



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 13:42:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18074468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arinor/pseuds/Arinor
Summary: What if Catelyn held the knife to Walder Frey's throat?Mainly based on the TV show.





	Fire and Ice

**Author's Note:**

> There are quotes and references to the books and TV show. All credits to them.

The blade lay there shinning in the candle light. Hidden under the table it was the only thing left in the room left untouched by the death. Who ever thought a little dinner knife could hold so much hope, so much hate.

_And who are you, the proud lord said,  
that I must bow so low?_

Joyeuse Frey cowered under _his_ table. She was but a girl, too little for this world of men and their blades. Lord Walder however, Lord Walder had outlasted his welcome. He would pay, one way or another he would pay. His old withered face surveyed the carnage before him with _satisfaction_. Manderlys were speared, Mormonts gutted, Umbers cut down and Starks filled with quarrels. Robb was there. He was alive and breathing, He had a chance for life.

_Only a cat of a different coat,  
that's all the truth I know._

Catelyn snatched the dinner knife from the stone and leapt out from under the table. She rose past the girl and with her left hand grabbed a handful of Lord Walder’s hair. With one powerful tug she dragged him over the trestles, spilling wine and jellies and pies as he went. Then the knife was at his throat and there was no going back.

“Lord Walder! Lord Walder, enough!” she shouted. “Let it end! Please! He is my son! My first son! Let him go and I swear that we will forget this! I swear it by the Old Gods and New! We will take no vengeance.” Every eye and arrow was then trained on them. The old man hung from his wiry ashen hair and quivered in her grip. Or was it her hands that trembled? He stood shorter than her so they both looked over the room and down at her son.

_In a coat of gold or a coat of red,  
a lion still has claws,_

Walder swallowed against the blade, she would not kill him, not until Robb was safe. He knew this. “You already swore me one oath right here in my castle. You swore by all the Gods, your son would marry my daughter!” he growled at her.

Desperately Catelyn bargained. “Take me for a hostage but let Robb go! Robb, get up! Get up and walk out! Please! Please!” she howled.

“And why would I let him do that? You would make yourself a murderer Lady Stark. Family, duty, honour. There is no honour in killing an old man.”

In response, Catelyn kicked his feet forward and stood as straight as she could, ensuring every man could see the blade at their lord’s throat. The knife dug into Walder’s neck, her hand slick with blood and sweat vibrated with her fury.

_And mine are long and sharp, my lord,  
as long and sharp as yours._

Then, her voice, dark as night, cold as stone, she proclaimed, “On my honour as a Tully, on my honour as a Stark, let him go or I will cut your lord’s throat!”

Robb was standing, watching her with eyes clouded over with pain and grief. His dead wife slouched in a puddle of blood behind him. Something shifted in the room. She felt Walder slouch in defeat he started blubbering and gasping, his words were lost to her as she watched her son. And then Roose Bolton came into focus.

“You have a deal Lady Stark. Release Lord Walder and step away from him then we will allow your son to walk out of here,” Roose Bolton said calmly. She wasn’t a fool. Catleyn stubbornly held onto the old man and glared at the leech with defiance. “We could release your son then you may still cut Lord Walder’s throat. Of course if you release him we could still kill the both of you. But now you have a choice to make. Is your son worth everything?” Ned was gone. Bran and Rickon dead. Sansa and Arya out of reach. Robb, there was only Robb. She only had Robb.

_And so he spoke, and so he spoke,  
that Lord of Castamere,_

Catelyn lowered the blade slowly and moved like a shadow ten paces away from Walder Frey who crumpled to the ground in relief. She tossed the knife away and kept her gaze trained on Robb. “Mother,” he mumbled weakly.

_But now the rains weep o'er his hall,  
with no one there to hear._

“Go Robb, pease,” she told him with tears in her eyes. Robb was safe, she had done her duty. Robb turned drunkenly and took a single step towards her.

Roose Bolton appeared and grasped her son’s shoulder with a pale hand. She heard him speak from across the room and then he thrust a dagger into Robb’s heart with a savage twist. Robb stared at her but then he stop seeing and slid to the ground, dead.

_Yes now the rains weep o'er his hall,  
and not a soul to hear._

_The Lannisters send their regards._

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” It was a cry of pain, nothing else. She watched Robb’s body forlorn for a few moments in silence. Then her pain turned to rage and hate. Catelyn screamed a terrible scream like an animal and flew across the dais where she wrapped her hands around Walder’s old soft throat and squeezed until her hands turned white and they quivered.

Claws ripped her away from her prey and then her throat was opened up by a blade cold and cruel. She stood there for a moment as the rage abandoned her to her pain and her life blood spilled forth over her chest and her arms. Her tears ran clear, that was not right, everywhere there was red, red wine, red blood, red lions. Why not red tears. Different claws ripped at her cheeks and so her face was too stained red.

_Too much. It was too much. No more, Ned. Let it end._ Finally, she let herself fall. The ground was just as unforgiving already slick with red and only watched in silence as she drown in her blood.

As she lay there, something caught her eye. Only small, a little flame nestled safely in its glass surround. It burned bright and beautiful alone in the dead cold. Catelyn’s light was fading, the room around her faded to darkness but that little warm flame flickered through it. Just as night came to gather her in its embrace she reached out with a single finger to brush that little light.


End file.
